


Foresight

by doctorTumult



Category: Sanders Sides, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: I like to make him suffer, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, gun - Freeform, my poor boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 08:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14589120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorTumult/pseuds/doctorTumult
Summary: Virgil always knew, somehow, that he’d die by his own hands.





	Foresight

**Author's Note:**

> First fic on here! Hope y’all like it. This can also be found on my tumblr: a-ghostlight-for-roman

Virgil had always kinda figured it would happen this way. He’d always had this sort of gut feeling. A feeling that, when he died, it’d be by his own hands. It wasn’t necessarily that he’d always been suicidal, but he’d just known, somehow. He guessed that was a benefit to being the literal embodiment of anxiety: He had great foresight. 

Now was time, he’d decided. This past while, everything had just been too much. He constantly felt guilt whenever he saw Patton. He always tried so hard to make Virgil feel loved, but it just wasn’t happening. He always disappointed Logan. He always tried to help Virgil, to show him that his way of thinking was harmful and irrational. But inevitably, Virgil always fell back into old habits. And Roman… Tried very hard for Virgil. Perhaps that should’ve made him want to stay, but instead, it just made him feel bad. He was a hindrance to him in the end, and Roman really shouldn’t be trying so hard for /him/. 

And so there he sat, contemplating what to write. He’d thought about doing a detailed letter apologizing for his mistakes and thanking them all, but he’d eventually decided that he didn’t want to waste their time more than he already had. He thought that something short and impactful would be best. Eventually, he settled on a single sentence: 

“Maybe now you can be happy.“ 

And he thought, maybe, maybe that was a bit much. But he didn’t have time to think of something else, because he could hear someone approaching his room. He didn’t have any more time to waste. He scrawled the words onto a paper and shoved the note in his pocket, crumpling it up into a ball. If the others cared enough, they’d open it up and see his last words. 

He grabbed the gun. Loaded it with a single bullet. He took off the safety. He raised it to his head. He rubbed his thumb over the paper. His pen dropped to the floor. His blood was rushing through his ears. He could hear it. His breath was picking up. He thought maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. 

But deep down, deep down he knew, this was the best thing. This would end the guilt, the fear, the suffering, the emptiness. 

Tears were pouring from his eyes, his eyeshadow was smeared and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He looked like a mess. 

Steadying his hand, he put his finger on the trigger.

He pulled.


End file.
